Roommates
by Suki issunsakihayami
Summary: Trowa's a depressed young man who's abandoned the world. Quatre's a popular native jock, can Quatre save Trowa before it's to late? And does Trowa want to be saved? CHAPTER 3 UP!
1. WHY ME?

AN: This is my first Gundam story so be nice. It's completely AU though some various other gundam characters may be making their appearances later on.

Roommates

By Suki aka *angel!*

Part one (Why me?!)

Trowa was lonely; but then again it was his entire fault. He didn't have to push everyone away when they tried to get close to him, didn't have to sabotage everything when he started to but he always did, it never failed. Sure he sited that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't worth doing anymore, that he had to much work to do, but in reality it was the exact opposite.

Trowa wasn't sure why he pushed everyone away, but maybe it had something to do with his fear of rejection. Because of that he seemed to had developed a weird, and some people might go out on a limb and say freakish relationship with inanimate objects or small animals, like his favorite, the ducks at a nearby park.

Ducks were the best, he had decided, because you could so easily win their affections with a small piece of food or some bread and as long as you had food, you had their friendship and they were still good to you.

He wished people were like that, exchange a small piece of food or something that had little value for an afternoon of talking which had a whole lot of value. But in reality people were the exact opposite, they were loud and nagging and selfish, or at least the people in Trowa's life were.

Part of Trowa wished his old self, but the other part launched at returning to who he used to be. He was once an almost prom king, and had so much potential. But then something changed after he went to college. He started to distance himself from everyone and thing he loved, stopped being social, stopped caring so much that everyone around him noticed, including his parents. Who started to call him and threaten that if he didn't get his grades up and started to visit more then they would cut off paying for his college.

Trowa didn't seem to care and to prove that fact he hung up on them. Soon afterwards he bought caller id to never have to worry about talking to him parents anymore.

One time Trowa gave up and went home only to hear his parent talk about how worried they were and ask him if he needed help 'upstairs'. He never went back.

Having finally gotten home one day he was suprized to find a red one flashing on his answering machine. Sighing he hit the button, listened to the message, and hit erase. All he really got out of it was the fact that the dean wanted to see him tomorrow. Well, damn.

*~*

Trowa was suprized he even bothered to show up the next day, but somehow curiosity got the better of him, or maybe it was just sheer boredom. 

He had actually decided to show up to school that morning so when the dean gave him hell for not showing up he could tell him he did show up today. Showing up however seemed to surprise everyone in the class including to teacher who did a double take and said "Hello Trowa, _nice_ of you to join us." Before returning to the chalkboard. But who's to say he actually paid attention?

After picking up carry out and returning home, he laid down on the sofa and mindlessly started to flip through the channels, upon deciding nothing that he could tolerate was on he grabbed his coat and walked out his door.

*~*

The dean like the teacher earlier was surprised to see he really showed up. "I've been worried about you, you aren't the same man you were when I met you a year ago. I've had long conversations with you parents and…"

"Parents well shit." Trowa muttered a little bit to loudly. "This can't end well."

Giving him a stern look through his black framed lenses he continued. "We've decided that the best way to help you with your little problem is to be more social. I've taken the liberty to contact a young man who agreed to let you move in with him."

Double shit. Trowa thought before answering. "What's his name?" 

"Quatre Raberba Winner."

*~*

Trowa barely made it out of the building without screaming. He had heard of Quatre before, the popular track jock that reminded him of everything he used to be. He had even had a class with him before, last semester, American History and went to the bare minimum of the classes to never have to be around him more than necessary.

He avoided most people but this person he tried to avoid even more. Not that he had much of a choice in this instance. For the dean threatened to throw him out if he refused. 

Damn, that blonde drove him insane.

*~*

Speaking of the devil, Quatre was at that very moment running laps around the track across town and worrying about not making state at the same time.

All his life Quatre ran, and it seemed to be the only thing that kept him a live, luckily he was pretty good at it to. Sure he worried about keeping his grades up but only because if he didn't then he would be kicked off of the track team, which to him would be like being killed.

Trowa recognized him immediately, the bright blonde hair that seemed gold in the sun, the big blue eyes, and the athletic body. He stood there in silent appreciation waiting for Quatre to finish.

"Hello Quatre." That's right be decent to him.

"Oh hi, you must be Trowa right? You were in my history class last year right? Though you weren't there much, couldn't figure out how you passed though."

"Unavoidable problems popped up." He lied. But the real reason was that I was avoiding you because the truth is I still don't like you but I need you.

"So you're going to be my new room mate?" he asked the taller man.

"Looks like it."

*~*

"This is going to be your room." Quatre told him when he showed up to Quatre's apartment a few days later. 

"It used to be my old roommates but he moved out after a couple of weeks, for some odd reason."

Some odd reason indeed. Don't you ever shut up?

"It was okay for a while but I found myself getting lonely after a couple of days, so I asked the dean to find me a new roommate and here you are!" he finished talking by smiling.

"Yeah here I am." He answered without smiling back. "Now that we're on the subject of roommates. I just wanted to go over a couple of quick ground rules."

"Ground rules." Quatre repeated confused. "Like what?"

"I'm not here to be your friend. I didn't want to move in here to become your friend nor do I harbor the desire to. I'm only here because I was forced to by Dean…"

"But Dean Donaldson's a nice guy! He would never force anyone to do something they wouldn't want to do." Quatre seemed bothered at such a thing.

"Fine I was _offered_ two choices and one of them _wasn't_ really a choice." He stated annoyed. "Move in here or get kicked out."

"Don't make it sound to awful. Living together will be fun."

"Yeah fun." He replied sarcastically.

*~* 

You know the drill. R + R! Oh and by the way for those wondering this may turn into a Trowa and Quatre romance. I haven't decided, maybe someone should suggest something for me?


	2. misunderstanding

**AN:** So many of you reviewed! It makes me feel all warm inside! Anyway in most of your reviews you mentioned something about 3+4? Anyone want to clue me in by what that exactly means? I could guess that it has something to do with Trowa and Quatre, but I'm not sure. 

"… 'Love is what is needed' we chant and then sit back, and the world goes on as it did before. The fact is that we can only love what we know personally. And we cannot know much. In public affairs… something much less dramatic and emotional, namely tolerance. Tolerance is a very dull virtue. Its boring. Unlike love it always has bad press, its negative. It merely means putting up with people, being able to stand things. No one has ever written an ode to tolerance or raised a statue to it. Yet it is the quality most needed... this is the only force than enables different races, classes, and interests to settle down together."****

**---E. M. Forester, "Tolerance"**

**Roommates**   
Chapter 2 "Misunderstandings"   
By Suki   


Trowa groaned before rolling over and putting his pillow over his head. Glancing at the clock he cursed. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled at Quatre. Really, the man he was living with had no sense of respect singing in the shower at such an ungodly hour. Sure it was 7:00 a.m. but anything before noon was an ungodly hour to him. It was the same every morning; Quatre woke up, went running and returned at 7, to sing in the shower despite his non morning person roommates pleadings to stop. 

"Anything wrong Trowa?" Quatre asked after opening the door. 

"No, I just felt like yelling." He responded sarcastically throwing the covers off. 

Quatre nodded, once again not understanding that Trowa was being sarcastic. "Well, okay. I'm off to class now; hopefully you decide to go as well." Quatre told him turning around. Quatre once partially almost begged him to show up, but had since given up. 

**FLASHBACK**

"Oh whaaat a beautiful morning, oh whaaat a beautiful day, I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going my way!" Quatre sang as he opened the blinds in Trowa's room letting in the sunlight. This, unfortunately to Trowa, was shining right into his eyes. 

"Shut up!" Trowa growled. 

"You have class in an hour." Quatre stated. 

"Tell me something I don't know." 

"I could never get ready in just an hour and if I could I wouldn't be completely awake." Quatre said. "Plus you should always show up early so you can talk to all of your professors about today's classes, it really helps me you see and once this one time I learned about a big pop quiz because I showed up early, was able to get in a little bit of extra studying you know…" 

"Is there any point to this story?" 

"Oh, yes. If you don't show up at least 15 minutes early then you're late. That's what my father told me anyway." 

"What did you father tell you about not showing up?" Trowa didn't see how his father or anyone for that matter could stand having a conversation with Quatre without going insane. Quatre wasn't unpleasant he just didn't seem to have the ability to take hints. 

"Not showing up?" Quatre repeated as if he didn't understand the words coming out of his roommates mouth. "You have to show up! Not showing up will lower your grades!" Grades to Quatre were everything. 

"Grades aren't everything. Hasn't anyone told you that your grades are a direct indication of what you know and what you know prepares you for life." 

"Spare me the lecture and save it for someone who cares." he replied bitterly. Trowa felt an instant pain of guilt when he looked into the blondes eyes that were rattled in fear. "Quatre I didn't mean it." 

"I'll leave you alone," Quatre told him bewildered his face radiated with confusion. 

Trowa cursed under his breath, he knew that someone needed to go talk to Quatre and explain things to him, namely him. The general sluggishness of his current personality overdid his thought of getting up. I'll do it later, he reasoned with himself before falling into sleep. 

**End of Flashback**

That had all happened 5 days ago. This was unusual for even Trowa to feel bad after that much time. I meant to apologize, he reasoned with himself, it's just Quatre hasn't who's apartment this is, spends little or no time in it. Trowa wasn't sure if it was because Quatre was ignoring or he was normally not around. If he was mad however, he had a very good way of hiding it, for his attitude hadn't changed one bit since the little insistent. 

Originally he wondered how Quatre could afford such a large apartment, before deciding that he was either rich or had a full ride scholarship and could afford to spend his money on a nice apartment. 

Trowa hoped desperately that it was the later of the two, he hated rich people. How they acted, how they thought they were better than everything else, and how they thought everything could bought if the right price was paid. Ironically, he himself was rich. Well no exactly him, but his dad, but he h ad grown up surrounded by money. 

Everything in Trowa's life was deceitful and not was it appeared to be, his father claimed to be the perfect father, and Trowa truly believed that the only reason he was "concerned" about his son's grades was only because the saw whatever his son did as a direct link to what his company would be. But he would have traded his life with anyone in the world. 

His father had 2 main hobbies, money and women. He was extremely good at money, having conquered everyone in his way, striking fear in the hearts of everyone of his obstacles. Though he wasn't very good at women, sure women flocked to Trowa Barton Sr. including his favorite, the air brain, tall, beautiful, ones attracted to his money and they jewels he could offer. He grew up witnessing his father's endless string of wives and mistresses that were dimissed as soon as he lost interest in them, and Sr. lost interest in thing very fast. He simply mentioned that it was over and the next week they were gone, no fighting, no pleading, no argument, that was it. But that was okay in Mr. Barton's life for money was what truly mattered, for it was power and bought everything he wanted he reasoned. 

His mother was long gone, left her husband when he started to turn into the cruel person he was now and she found out that he was having mistresses behind her back, though Sr, claimed that he had been the one who had divorced her. He remarried within 3 months. 

Trowa swore to never turn out like his father. Sure his father tried to get him to treat women as he did, but seeing Trowa wouldn't, he cursed and said 'something's wrong with that boy' before returning to his office to work. Pretty soon he had decided that Trowa himself wasn't worth hanging on to and was shipped off to a boarding school in Switzerland. Not that Trowa minded, after all the father away he was from his old man, the better. 

Hearing the front door open and close drew Trowa out of his thoughts. "Might as well get this over with." he mumbled. 

*~* 

"What are you doing for thanksgiving?" Quatre inquired later on the week. The problem had been settled, so easily in fact, that Trowa believed that Quatre had completely forgotten about it. But he had learned that Quatre didn't seem to have the ability to hold a grudge. 

Trowa, on the other hand, held grudges quite easily, ironically however the person he held most of his grudges against was himself. 

"Thanksgiving?" Trowa repeated confused, suprised that it had snuck up on him again, like it always did and he always swore that he wouldn't let it happen next year. 

"Yeah when are you going home?" 

"Home." that was a laugh to Trowa. Why would be freely return to that hellhole? 

It was 7:30 in the morning and Trowa and Quatre were eating together like they always did. It was suprising to be awake at such an hour, and Trowa found that he was remarkably awake at such a time. Not that he had given up, he reasoned, he had just gone tired of fighting with Quatre, it also might have been a little bit of guilt involved. 

"I don't plan on going home. Ever." 

"But thanksgiving if about being with your family and giving thanks." 

"Trust me, if you had my dad as a dad, you wouldn't find anything to give thanks." 

"He can't be that bad." Quatre argued. 

Trowa shook his head. "My dad likes to crush everyone in his sight, including me." he admitted. He glanced away his eyes full of pain. 

"That's impossible, a real father wouldn't do that." 

"You're right." Trowa agreed. "A real father wouldn't." 

"And your mom?" Quatre asked not sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

"Left when I was 8, never saw he again, and neither do i want to." he told the blonde even though his eyes clearly showed otherwise. 

Quatre took a moment to register this, "That's awful, you are going to spend thanksgiving with me and my family, i insist." 

"Why not?" Trowa agreed knowing that he wouldn't be left alone until he did. 

"Really?" Quatre asked suprised that he had given up so easily. 

"Sure." he responded more firmly. 

"My parent's will be so happy, and so will my sisters." 

"Sisters?" 

"13 of them." 

"Thirteen?" [Oh shit, what have i gotten myself into to?] 

*~* 

**AN**: I know this section mostly focused on Trowa, but the next section will focus more on Quatre. Next Section: I want the drumstick!   
  
  



	3. an apple never falls far from the tree

****

AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed explaining 3x4 to me. (Mariana 1 and Fabi-chan to name a few.) I appreciate all of the support I receive from reach and everyone of you.

****

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to it's respective owner. 

****

Roommates 

Chapter 3 (The apple never falls far from the tree.) 

One of the many things that Trowa hated was the fact that he gave in way to easily. It was something he always addressed and swore he would fix sometime, maybe next year, and never got around to actually doing it. 

Because of that, he was constantly the one left with the crappiest jobs or doing stuff he didn't want to do, just because he gave in to easily. Some people might say he just had a big heart, Trowa wasn't so sure that was actually right. He wasn't on this plane because he had a big heart and didn't want to make Quatre feel bad, the truth was he was just to lazy to fight with him anymore. 

"Want anything to drink?" Quatre's cheerful voice rang out interrupting his thoughts. 

"Huh?" he asked turning around. 

"A drink." He repeated. "Are you thirsty?" 

"Oh, no I'm fine." After saying that he turned back around to glance at what appeared to be a large forest passing beneath them. 

The Winner estate turned out to be just as Quatre remembered, large but inviting, full of love. "Dad!" he exclaimed joyfully rushing to his father's arms. "I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you to." Wrapping his arms around his son and squeezing, he smiled at the sight of his only son. Noticing Trowa he let go, and extended his arm saying: "Welcome, welcome."

Mr. Winner, Trowa found was an exact copy of his son. They both had that ame smile the kind that made you smile back no matter how tired, how aggrivated you were or how much you wanted just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep, hoping time would make you feel better."you must be.." 

"Trowa Barton." He finished for him. 

"Aw yes Quatre's friend.I've heard so much about you." 

[And I've heard so much about you to.] Trowa thought to himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Winner." 

"And you to Trowa." 

Trowa had come to the conclusion that everything in Quatre's house was done formally and with the upmost respect for each other. And here respect actually existed unlike where Trowa came form where respect was just a mask used to cover up all of the lack of emotion present. 

Another thing Trowa observed was that these people never seemed to be bothered by emotions like anger, greed or any other petty emotions, everyone seemed to be happy and grateful just to be still living. 

Everything was polite, pleasant and formal. Even the table setting and your seat at the table was formal and old-fashioned. The head of the house, the husband, sat at the head of the table and the guest of honor, Trowa, sat to his right left. The seat for the hostess was oddly empty. Mr. Winner, noticing Trowa's gaze commented: "My wife is feeling ill, just as well as one of my daughters and won't be able to join us." 

"That's okay." He assured him seeing the servants bringing in the food he hoped that the unnerving silence would dissapear once the food was served. 

Naturally doing what he always did when food was placed in front of him, Trowa stated to eat, unaware of the fact that he was the only one stuffing his face. The rest of the Winner family were deep in meditation. Hearing a small female laugh and feeling a finger poking at his side, the brunette looked up suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings. 

Glancing nerviously around to see if any one else had noticed his error and hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt, he exhailed noticing no one else had saw. 

Feeling he was being antichurch even though he belonged to no church in particular. Trowa decided to at least act relgious even though he wasn't even sure of the exsistance of a God. 

A large "amen" from the host startled Trowa. And the reverent silence was instantly replaced with loud small talk. [This whole family is insane.] He realized. 

"So." He questioned the girl who had corrected his error, "Is this a normal occurance that occurs every meal or is it a special things since I'm here."

"This?"

"Yes this." He tried to articulate for her, "All of this religious stuff."

"Yes it is." Mr. Winner interupted trying to be friendly to his guest. "Does all of our religious displays offend you? We are proud catholics, my father was catholic, my mother was catholic, or entire family is catholic. If you are of another religion we would not be offended if you didn't join us for mass tonight."

"Actually I am not of any denomination, I come for a very un-religious family." Trowa told. He relaized his error for Quatre's constant shaking of his head and the friendly nature of Mr. Winner slowly disappearing. 

"So tell me about you family." Mr. Winner told him, hoping he wasn't just a person who came from a religion-less family, a sin of it's own according to Mr. Winner and his father and his grandfather's beliefs. 

"Well my mom left us when I was 3 and my father remarried. I have a sister named Catherine who's 3 years younger than I am."

"What did you say your last name was again?" Mr. Winner interrupted a frown forming on his face. His son was a friend with this, this religion-less creature!

"Barton." 

"As in related to the Mr. Trowa Barton." 

"He's my dad." Trowa said embarrassed. He ran into this a lot, people who knew his father, knew who then assumed just because he was his father's son that he would turn out exactly like his old man.

Mr. Winner's frown grew even deeper. He had met Mr. Barton Sr., almost did business with him once before he met him in person. He knew of his ruthless behavior and lack of concern for any other human beings. 

This evening was turning out to be a disaster. First, the fact that Trowa started eating during prayer, Second, the fact Trowa admitted he wasn't religious and Third, the fact that his father knew of Trowa's father. Mentally counting up the countless mistakes he made of not warning Trowa or introducing him under a false name, he decided inviting Trowa was a big mistake on his part. 

Watching his father get mad wasn't something Quatre liked or had much experience doing, but those few times left ever burning spots that Quatre couldn't forget. And glancing over Trowa who seemed to be sending a distress call he only felt it was time to say something. 

Quatre interrupted, hoping a sudden couple of words would change his father's mood he said: "Just because of where you come from doesn't influence who you are. You can rise above that."

"Of course, son." But he glanced at Trowa cautionly, the same way you glance at lion, even at the zoo. Sure the lion is caged in but you never tread to closely as you would with the penguins. 

Just because Trowa was claimed to be different from his father didn't guarantee he didn't have the same capability for evil. For the apple never falls far from the tree.

Despite Quatre's desperate attempt to bring the evening back to it's original high, he couldn't. Even Quatre's generally happy mood couldn't fix this acweard situation. His father wouldn't even look in Trowa's general direction without shaking his head. 

Excusing himself from the table early, Trowa left and felt his absence wouldn't be felt to hardly by Mr. Winner. 

After that the entire party slowly drizzled away, Mr. Winner to his study, Quatre's sisters to their rooms and bathroom respectfully and Quatre to go hunt down Trowa. 

Trowa couldn't figure out for the life of him why Mr. Winner's disapproval of him bothered him so. It wasn't like he wasn't never disapproved of before, and it certainly wasn't the first time someone started to look down on him when they found out who his father was. 

Walking out to the garden, to hopefully gather his thoughts that didn't seem to be connecting and flowing smoothly. Unknown to him someone was following him, but soon known to him he wasn't the only one who came out to enjoy the night sky. 

Hearing water he started to walk towards it, water always seemed to calm Trowa down. Aparantly he wasn't the only person with that mindset as he caught sight of a young woman sitting by the fountain. 

Approaching what appeared to be a crying sister of Quatre's, Sarah perhaps, he called out to her to make sure it was okay to approach. 

[Looks like another outcast.] "Hey, you okay?" he asked the crying woman but immediately after the words left his mouth he silently cussed himself out. [Of course she's not okay, if she was she wouldn't be crying if she was you jackass.] 

Seeing the woman nod, he slowly moved closer to her sitting down next to her. "If you want to I can leave, I mean if you want to be alone…"

Shaking her head she told him to stay. "Is there anything I can do? Do you need a tissue or something?" 

Taking the tissue he offered, she blew her nose in what had to be the most unattractive manner he ever heard. Smiling softly he offered his hand for her to take for some reassurance everything was okay. He intended on her taking it, smiling, and him telling her everything was going to be okay, she nodding and them walking back up to the house and eating dessert with everyone else. 

What happened however was a little bit different than he planed. 

Trowa looked down at the woman crying on his chest with uncertainty. Unsure of how to approach the situation without further complication of things, he wrapped his arms around her in what he hoped came across as a reassuring gesture. 

For a man with a younger sister he was acting in a very nervous fashion. Not that he and Catherine had an actual relationship, there last interaction existed of the usual: 

__

'How are you doing?' 

'How's life?' 

'Oh, good you?' 

'Great.' 

Their conversation continued until they were both satisfied that the correct amount of interaction had been occurred so that they could be assured they were actually in each other's lives but not enough to form an attachment to one another that would include unneeded relationships developed. As for Catherine, he was almost positive she was dating a lawyer and living in California or was she living in France living with a painter. 

Rest-assured no actual emotions were shown between the two of them when they were young, unless you called neglect an emotion. 

As for the girl in his arms he was unsure if something should be said for to reassure her he was still here or he should just let her cry out her problems whatever they happened to be. 

After deciding words were needed he asked her, "Do you want to talk about it? We don't even have to talk about whatever's wrong if you don't want to? Did you see that movie, you know the one with that really well built guy?" He asked her. "Unless of course you don't you know like guys and that's perfectly acceptable thing if you are, more power to you." Added nervously. 

Even Quatre, who was now standing by the tree had to smile at the pathetic attempt to calm her down. 

"No, but the advantages of becoming one become more appealing everyday." She told him, her words muffled against his now soaked shirt. 

Releasing her he smiled. "I know what you mean. Well not exactally know what you mean, but judging that this has something to do with a man, this does have something to do with a man right?" Seeing her nod he continued. "Every man is either a bastard, a jackass, and/or an asshole on some level or another." 

"That's an interesting way of putting it, what exactally do you view yourself as?" 

"Well no ones ever asked me that before… maybe a jackass." He told her. 

Smiling faintly she laughed. Feeling a little bit more relaxed, he un-tensed up becoming more comfortable 

"Thanks for listening, not many men would." 

"I may be a jackass but that doesn't mean that my heartless." 

Nodding the blonde smiled. "But it seems like sometimes all men are just heartless animals, luring you into a false since of security before they pounce, ripping your heart out." 

"Not all of us our bad." He assured her. "There are a few good men out there; you just have to look hard enough." 

"You including?" she looked up at him though her big blue eyes shining with tears, he had spent enough time with the opposite sex to understand what her eyes were full of, adoration towards him. He couldn't really take it personal, she would be looking like that at any man who had just come to talk to here, and after all she had just been burned. 

"I guess me included. Do you want to talk about it, Sarah?" 

"I don't need either of them." She told him. "And my names Katie not Sarah," 

"Either of them?" he repeated confused. "I thought this was about a guy." 

"My fiancé and my best friend. Or should I say ex-fiancé and ex-best friend." 

"That's never good. Anything that begins with the lines my ex-fiancé and ex-best friend is never good. Have you told Quatre this?" 

"Quatre?" she glared at him as if he had grown a second head. "Why would I tell him? He has enough of his problems." 

"Quatre? Problems?" he contemplated how those completely opposite people and emotions could be put into the same sentence together. Repeating it a couple of times to try to understand he decided he couldn't. 

"You mean he hasn't told you?" 

"Told me what?" he asked suprized that outgoing Quatre wasn't as outgoing as he lead people on to believe. 

"I thought you two were close the way he talked about you over the phone." 

"Told me what?" he asked again, still not getting the attention of the blonde who seemed preoccupied with her own train of thought. 

"I mean he was so excited when he called, saying he was bring home one of him friends. He kept on insisting that you were amazing and that you were an amazing person and we would love you the second we saw you in the airport..." 

"Told me what?" he tried again finally getting the attention of the blonde. 

"Yes?" she said shyly. 

"Told me what?" 

"Oh, about his past. Why he runs." She explained. "Quatre's different than what most people see him as. He was picked on so much as little and not the he's so ugly or your mamma's so ugly jokes either. We're talking about the getting picked on and getting beaten up; he ran home everyday to escape it all. After all this time he puts on this face exterior of how he's just some native innocent runner with a full scholarship. But don't let that fool you, Quatre picks up on everything little that no one else seems to pick on, he always seems to know whenever something is wrong." 

At this part of the narrative, Trowa felt a pain of guilt hit is heart. He was exactally like the bullies that picked on Quatre, using him like his father used everyone else in his life and without a second a second thought. After all of this time, he had promised to never turn out like his father and he was picking on Quatre liked he used to pick on everyone else in high school. 

"Is there anything wrong?" Sarah asked finally noticing at last Trowa's change in mood. 

"No." he told her firmly lying to her and himself both. "I'll see you tomorrow morning okay?" 

"Okay." She answered him confused. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

With that he left, leaving a very confused Sarah and, full of more knowledge than he had previously known about his roommate, Quatre. The blonde who walked back into the house without either party noticing he was there. Just as it has always been, Quatre was always the one lurking in the shadows. 

[Shit shit shit shit shit. What the hell was I thinking?]Trowa continued to ask himself this question over and over without being able to come up with an answer that settled his emotions. After all this time, after all of this running Trowa couldn't escape being his father's son. Had he actually thought that he could change that he could be different? 

Running harder than he normally ran, as if going fast would help him reach an answer, Trowa continued to run at a speed that even surprised himself if he had been a bystander and not an active part of it. 

"Wow you're a really good runner." Quatre told him astonished. He, the school's number one runner, was having trouble keeping up with him. 

"I used to run." Trowa explained in a tone that said he wanted to drop it. 

Quatre, who briefly looked up, noticed Trowa getting his all to familiar look on his face, the one he got in his eyes when he talked about what he used to do. "Used to?" He repeated amazed someone this good would just up and quit the sport. "At this speed, you could easily get a full scholarship." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Um okay." Quatre was at a loss of words, it happened again. One second he thought he was connecting with Trowa and the next he had said something wrong and ruined the mood. Whatever had happened in the his past Trowa wasn't ready to talk about it. Whatever happened the wounds of past years didn't heal with time or at least they didn't heal fast enough. 

Speeding up, Trowa left Quatre behind without another word leaving Quatre out of breath for more than one reason. But in his carelessness, Trowa took a turn to fast too sharply and fell, the loud terrifying sound of crashing bones was heard by Quatre 20 feet away. 

"Trowa!" 

****

AN: I know I know I'm such a bad person for leaving a cliffhanger, but most of the next chapter is either figured out or typed up. I should be able to finish it by next week. Merry Christmas everyone! And if I don't get the next chapter out soon enough, Happy New Year!


End file.
